Life goes on, but it might not mean it's for the better
by ChristaRei
Summary: It's been a month since Blair banished Jenny. She wants to start a new leaf, but all she does is alienate the whole world. The old her that she thought ceased to exist hadn't completely disappeared, and nothing really changes.
1. Prologue

I stared at the wall for what seemed like hours. All sound was muted. No frustrated horns, no music blasting through someone's stereo and no arguing of angry New Yorkers. The Hudson neighbourhood was too quiet and I was completely alone in the apartment.

All the silence made it easier for me to think about how life had turned out for me. I was only seventeen... a teenager who had already alienated the world. I was seventeen and nobody seemed to want anything to do with me. I was seventeen and my own family didn't want to talk to me. I was seventeen and my best friend had cut me off, barely begun friendships had failed before they had even started. I was seventeen and alone.

It hurt. And I was the only one to be blamed for being such a screw up. A failure. A waste of space. I hated myself.

I looked down from the wall, and into the bath water. I absently noted that the bubble bath had worn off, as I sat for countless minutes in the water. Not really paying any attention to what I was doing, I slowly sank down into the bathtub. Inch by inch, I delved myself deeper into the water, my head clear of any thoughts. Eyes snapped shut tight and lungs burning, I knew I was losing my ability to breathe, but I kept going. Darkness overcame me and I was gradually losing touch with reality.

Suddenly, a hand sliced through the water and yanked my arm, pulling me above the water. I was startled, and the vague words they were yelling at me meshed together, not making any sense to me at all. Pulling me up to a standing position, they wrapped a towel around my shivering body and helped me to my room. A pair of strong arms held me close to their chest, and in the depths of my despair, I sobbed uncontrollably. Usually when I was upset, I cried silently for on one to hear. Numb, this time I cried, letting everything out.

How had I managed to do everything so wrong? And all this because I wanted to feel accepted?


	2. Chapter 1

**4 months earlier**

"Jenny," my mother called out from her bedroom. I walked lazily to it and stood by the doorway. She stood by the mirror, piercing her earrings through the earlobes, absentmindedly as if she hadn't called me five seconds ago.

"Mom."

Her reflection's eyes shifted from her busy hands to my reflection and she smiled. My mother was truly a beautiful woman. She had the most outstanding eyes and smile. I inherited her blond hair, while Dan - my brother - inherited my father's brunette and curly hair.

"Smile, Jenny, it's your first day at a new school. Aren't you happy?"

"Of course, I am, mom. No Blair, Serena, the girls at the steps, monarchy... Maybe finally I can go to a normal school with normal people," I sighed thinking about my doomed high school life back in Manhattan. I had tried so hard to fit in that I completely lost myself. This time I was going to try to be Jenny Humphrey without any pretence, lies or some urge to be accepted by people who don't really care.

Mom smiled at me and planted a kiss on my cheek, "I promise it will be fun. So smile."

I grinned attempting to create a believable smile. She continued to give me the look that usually made me do whatever she wanted.

"I'm just tired, mom. Can we please never play boardgames the night before school?"

"Sorry, sweety. Now, come on before we are late."

I took the car keys from the kitchen counter and tossed them to my mom. Soon we were in the car, on a busy road, with nothing but silence. I turned to look at her. One could see that her mind was a thousand miles away. I put the radio on tuning to an indie-only station. The song that was playing was a familiar one. Mom snapped out of her trance and started humming while I mimicked the voice and words of the lead singer.

When we got to the school, I took a long look at the three-story building. It stretched for an entire block and was probably larger than it seemed. Teenagers rushed into the big blue entrance doors. A bell went off indicating that I was just on time. It made me jump out of the car and also run after the kids so that I wouldn't be late on my first day.

As soon as I walked through those doors, my eyes started to dwell. The entrance doors led to a big hallway that ended with an opening leading to the massive quad. The school's design was pretty simple. And by the looks of it, the architecture also prevented the kids from leaving the school property without permission.

_Safe. _I observed the students in the quad. There was no popular group in sight. That was either the best day of my life, or worst case scenario - there was this mean girl who made a nobody's high school life a living hell and she was late.


	3. Chapter 2

I stepped into the administration office of the school. Two adults sat by the sitting area with a very angry looking teenager. His eyes met mine, I smiled at him and then he looked away. I frowned at the rude reaction. A small distance from the sitting area was a wall with a huge window that separated an office space from the sitting area. It was the only quiet part of the school except for the ringing telephone. A young woman walked hurriedly to her desk and answered it. She spoke hardly a sentence and then hung up, walked to the window and called for the boy and his parents.

"You can go through to the headmaster," she smiled.

They entered a narrow hallway and turned at the second door on the right. That must have been the headmaster's office.

"Can I help you?" the woman smiled still.

"Oh, uhm... yeah, sorry. I was just wondering where class B16 is. I think it's my homeroom," I said.

"You must be new," the woman walked to her desk and grabbed a sheet. "This is a map of the school. I hope it's not too complicated for you."

I looked at the map she gave me. All the classes were illustrated as blocks with the class number in it. To indicate the three classes that were built on top of each other, the blocks were stacked. The map was the most easiest to read.

"Thanks," I smiled and set on the quest to find my class.

◦»«◦

"So, how's your half first day been?" a voice came from behind me at lunchtime. I followed it and saw a wavy-haired brunette. She made her way to my table.

"It was okay, thanks."

"Gretchen Summers," she held out a hand for me. I shook it and introduced myself. "I know your name, Jenny. I'm in two of your morning classes."

"Oh, sorry," I blushed at my ignorance.

"No need to apologize. Or for the fact that you're sitting at a reserved place."

I paused my motions and looked questioningly at her. _Please tell me this isn't some queen bee situation. _Everything had been perfectly normal that morning, if it was what I thought it was, I was ready to lay low and not go back to my old ways.

"My friends and I sit here."

"I can move."

"No need. We always welcome new people."

Two boys and a girl walked to the table and sat. They introduced themselves. Chris, a dirty blonde with thick-rimmed glasses. Monica, a super trendy Indian girl with flawless hair, might I add and a long-haired dimpled boy named Jared.

After introduction, we discussed classes. I had classes with three of them and one was in a drama club that I was interested in. I had to pinch myself to convince me that it was not all a dream. Such friendly people did exist, hopefully with no hidden agendas.

"So what was it like at your old school?" Monica asked.

"It was a monarch," she looked at me questioningly. "It was okay."

"Did it have cliques?"

"Not really... just like a popular group and the rest just existed to not exist to them."

"That's cool. We don't have cliques either, not hardcore anyway."

The bell rang ending our conversation. All the students hurried to their classes and made sure they were there by the second bell. The rest of the day was uneventful. I only had to introduce myself and try to settle in the new democratic environment.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Jenny, do you want to go to the movies?" Alison Humphrey asked, popping her head around the door. "It'll be fun."

"I don't know mom, I'm not really in the mood to go out. Let's just rent, or can we talk?" I replied throwing the fashion magazine I was looking through, on the floor. I looked up at her.

She stepped in and closed the door behind her with an almost inaudible click. Her face softened. "Sure, sweetie. Is everything okay?"

"Well you haven't really asked me about my first week or day yet..." I half-teased, and invitingly patted the spot next to where I was reclining.

She smiled. She strolled towards me and gently sat on the bed.

I'd always admired her passive elegance. She was quiet and calm, no matter how chaotic the situation may be. That was why I'd always gone to her for advice, knowing she wouldn't freak out and immediately jump to conclusions. Unlike Lily's strong and demanding presence, she was surrounded by a cooling and serene aura that made talking and being around her so easy.

"So how was your week?" she asked, starting to braid my hair absently.

"It was okay I guess. It was normal," I replied and rolled over to my stomach resting my head in my mom's lap.

"Good normal?" she prodded, still working on my hair.

"The most normal my life has been ever since my first day at Constance," I told her, reminiscing back at my days in the UES. "And guess what? No queen bees. Though I do kind of miss the drama."

A sudden burst of pain on my scalp rushed me back to reality. Yelping, I snatched my blonde hair from my mother's grasp and pouted at her accusingly.

"This is why I ban people from touching my head, especially you mom."

"Sorry," she kissed my forehead lightly. Her blue orbs, much similar to my own, stared at me intently for a second too long and went soft. "I love you, Jennifer. Don't ever forget that."

"I love you too, Mom."

Xoxoxoxoxo

Like a hopeless idiot, I stood by the auditorium entrance at school, wringing my fingers anxiously. I was about to enter my first extracurricular activity and had no idea what to expect. Also signing up for fashion and textiles, I wasn't sure why I had picked Drama to be my third option. I guessed it was the lack of options – it was either this, cooking (I found it hard to cook a microwavable dinner, let alone a fully cooked meal), Creative Writing or Dance. I was seriously debating whether anybody would notice or care if I ditched, when two fingers poked my sides.

I whipped around to viciously attack whoever it was, and without looking, shoved them in the chest. Hard. They fell to a heap on the floor and it was then, to my utmost embarrassment, I realized it was only Jared. Colour rose to my cheeks as I hastily helped my friend up.

"Woah, a little jumpy today, aren't we?" he noted, rubbing his chest painfully. "Did you take Karate or something? You've got one hell of an arm on you, Humphrey."

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, wrapping my arms around him for a hug. "Glad to know you're just as happy as I am to see a familiar face." Relief discarded all the nerves I felt in an instant, Jared had a cheerful and bright aura to him that made anyone smile.

I ended the hug and we entered the auditorium together. A female voice called out telling everyone to get a seat. Jared and I hurried up to sit on the far right seats of the second row. He quietly whispered a lame knock knock joke, which failed horribly, but still managed to arise a slightly nervous giggle out of me.

"Attention everyone," she called, hushing the loud teenagers. The woman was very pretty, I noticed. Long black hair cascaded down her back in sleek waves and her eyes were a bright emerald colour of green, shining with obvious enthusiasm. With long legs that stretched on for miles, pouty lips and curves to die for – the beautiful goddess was the attention of every guy in the room. "Who's excited for the Fall Production?"

An excited roar stirred up around me as the students animatedly chatted between themselves.

"Excuse me Phoebe," asked a brunette girl from the back. I bitterly noted that she was gorgeous too, it slightly annoyed me. Was everyone at this school so attractive? "Where is-"

'Phoebe' answered the girl's unfinished question, frowning slightly. "He's running a bit late today but I'm pretty sure he'll be here shortly. How about we discuss ideas for the production and present it to him when he gets here?"

Numerous hands shot up in the air, eager to give suggestions. Wow, this Fall Production seemed to be really popular.

I looked at Jared, who was unabashedly drooling over Phoebe with glazed eyes, taking two nudges to get his attention. "So sorry to disturb your erotic, and probably sexual, fantasies of Phoebe. Who is she anyway, some kind of hot teaching assistant?" I questioned sarcastically, growing increasingly pissed off by her mere presence. Why was she here anyway, shouldn't she be walking down a Victoria's Secret Fashion show or something?

I couldn't place my finger on it, but there was something I didn't like, wait scratch that, hated about her. Maybe it was the fact that she was too damn beautiful or that she seemed to shift everyone's attention away from me. Upper East Sider or not, I was still Jenny Humphrey, still conceited and self-absorbed as eve. Even moving to Hudson couldn't change that – it was who I was.

"Yup," he answered absently, his eyes still shining with lust. "She works with Mr-"

As if right on cue, a tall man walked into the classroom, turned to take his coat off and hung it on the coat stand. Time suddenly felt like honey drizzling off a silver spoon, painfully slow as I saw his face. The world blurred and he was the only one my eyes saw. My normally steady breaths changed into heavy fast ones and I felt like I could no longer breathe. My heart was in my throat and was pumping uncontrollably, making me feel sick. He was back. Damien Dalgaard was back.

I didn't know what to do, what to think or what to feel – I just sat there blankly. When I was banished from the Upper East Side, I had no idea that my past would follow me. I had hoped to leave it all behind, but of course, now that he was here, that wasn't an option. Probably looking like a retard, I stared at my former boyfriend at a loss for words. And yet, he hadn't noticed me. He hadn't even spared a glance my way. Instead, he was flirtatiously conversing with that bitch, Phoebe, in a hushed tone, totally oblivious to the students awaiting his attention.

Their conversation ended and he faced the class. "Hey guys, once again, sorry I'm late. Did I miss much?" I shrank in my seat, not wanting to speak to him yet. Or at all.

He looked the same as ever, even after a year nothing had changed. The same soft dirty blond hair, deep set silver eyes and a square jaw that could chisel granite. Nothing had changed, and that was what was so painful. It brought back agonizing memories, he hurt me more than I cared to admit.

"We were talking about the fall production," informed the pretty brunette at the back.

"I know you're all excited for this production, but… Due to my tardiness" – he flashed an apologetic grimace – "I think we should hold off the ideas till tomorrow."

As he said this, a wave of disappointed groans erupted in the classroom. I had never seen a more enthusiastic class of teenagers than at Hudson High School. An okay looking boy from the front row raised his hand, "Have you written something yet? Or are we not doing an original play?"

Once again, noise filled the room but as soon as Damien started speaking, everyone quietened down to listen to him. "We can decide on that, but I have pulled together a couple of ideas. I'll bring them in tomorrow, and we can go over them together." His eyes roamed the classroom as he spoke, scanning the students present.

I was intrigued by the deep bond between him and the students. I then felt a different connection as his icy grey eyes met my baby blue ones. An overwhelmingly strong sense of panic hit me like a ton of bricks as he stopped talking and studied me intently. My mind took me to an alternate universe where he had a serious case of amnesia and our twisted history was a complete mystery to him. He would tell me to introduce myself to the class, ask if I had any hidden talents, request a demonstration, and send me back to my seat with a warm welcome.

I could've sworn I detected a glint of uncertainty and confusion in his eyes for a brief second, but they vanished before I could be sure they were even there. A familiar look of amusement and laughter replaced them. I knew he had recognized me and at that moment, my amnesia theory went down the drain. "Do we have someone new in our class?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jared nudged me sharply in my ribs and discreetly signalled for me to stand up. I internally groaned – I hated introductions. Especially with my ex drug dealer boyfriend who was now my drama teacher.

"Hi," I waved awkwardly from my desk, hoping that he wouldn't make me come to the front.

My fears were confirmed a second later. "Why don't you come up here?" he motioned his head to the front of the classroom.

Reluctantly, I got to my feet and made my way to the exalted stage at the front. My pulse sped up as I approached him, his unwavering gaze following my moving form. Uncharacteristically, I felt uncomfortable at the multiple eyes that were also glued on me, burning holes on my back. A safe distance from Damien, I twirled a lock of my blonde hair between my thumbs as I stood next to him.

He smirked at my actions. "So… new kid. Introduce yourself." Introduce myself? Really? He, of all people, should know me better than everybody else.

I delicately cleared my throat and gathered my Queen Bee confidence, still not quite ready to speak. "Umm, I'm Jenny. I just transferred from Constance Billard School for Girls in Manhattan." A blaze of chatter amongst the teens indicated their obvious interest, probably wondering what I was doing at a crappy high school instead of an exclusive school for insanely rich kids. If only they knew…

"Any talents?" Damien questioned amicably, as if he was genuinely curious. No wonder he was teaching drama, he was such a great actor. 'You mean besides drug dealing? Oh wait, that's your thing.' I scorned, feeling growing hostility towards the man next to me.

"I design and create my own clothes?" it sounded more like a question than a statement. What was happening to me?

He rephrased his previous question. "Any talents we could see a live preview of?"

I was about to say no and cuss out when I realised that probably wouldn't be such a good idea. He'd probably just send me to the principal's office where my mom would be called, plus, it wouldn't help me gain popularity points, considering how much the class loved their oh-so-precious 'Mr Dalgaard'.

Apprehensively, I swallowed hard, a little unsure of my 'other talent'. Without thinking, I started to sing, the acoustics of Halestorm's song bouncing my voice from wall to wall. My eyes fixated on the audience, I challenged myself not to look to my feet – even though I was nervous as hell. I didn't even know why I decided to showcase my vocal skills, I hadn't sung since I moved to Brooklyn and I most likely sucked now.

After hearing me sing at a school play in Kindergarten, my parents recognised my 'amazing gift', as they called it, and signed me up for singing lessons with my great aunt Greta. I remembered throwing the worst tantrums, screaming until the neighbours started to complain and basically doing everything that I could think of to get out of the classes, even resorting to hiding in the shed at the back of the garden for a night. I was a stubborn child, but my parents were even more stubborn, refusing to change their mind. At first I hated the lessons with the strict old lady, but eventually, I came to look forward to them. When I turned twelve, she died, therefore ending my lessons.

The lyrics poured out of me naturally, and I grew more confident with each line. My smile brightened as Jared flashed me a friendly grin and a thumbs up. All too soon, the verse ended and as I sung the last note, an applause rang out from my audience. I gave a little curtsey and without permission from Damien, went back to my seat.

"That was great Jenny, welcome to the drama club," he praised, polite enough, but his was face devoid of any emotion that wasn't already familiar. I didn't reply.

The rest of the lesson was spent with students animatedly conversing between themselves while Damien and Phoebe went over some papers seriously. If you ask me, it was a total waste of a lesson.

"What was that?" asked Jared, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "I didn't know you could sing."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Kingsley," I replied mock-mysteriously, jabbing him in the chest.

He rubbed his chest tenderly, scowling. "I know that you are an abusive psychopath who likes to attack unsuspecting men in the dark."

I openly sniggered at the recent memory, leading Jared to glare at me. "It was your fault for sneaking up on me like that, I was just acting in self-defence. You brought it upon yourself, really," I justified, batting my eyelashes innocently.

Jared scoffed disbelievingly, eyeing me with suspicion. "I don't care what you say, you are a dangerous teenage girl whose violent ways need to be tamed by months, or maybe even years, at the nearest Juvenile Detention Centre," he informed me, his eyes shining with laughter.

Just as I was about to reply, our mindless banter was cut short by the bell, signalling the end of the school day. Due to his after school football game, Jared mumbled a barely coherent goodbye and rushed out of class faster than I thought was possible. Shaking my head, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, preparing to exit the room.

"Look who it is," Damien's lazy drawl rang out from behind me. "The infamous Queen J."

***FLASHBACK***

Damien clasped my neck and brought his lips to mine in an instant. My knees buckled as he ravaged me, pressed against my lips with his probing tongue. Electricity ran through my veins, making my heart beat faster than ever before. The world became blurry and distant, it was all extinguished in a cloud of lust as the heat of our bodies merged. I could feel his breath mixing with my own, our breathing in bursts between every kiss.

Lips still pressed together, he roughly grabbed my hip and pushed me onto the bed. His hand inched up my skirt, my creamy skin contrasting with his black trousers. He wasn't loving or tender, it was all want, lust, need and I accepted that. My face pressed into his neck, I moaned as he suckled on my collarbone, waves of pleasure washing over me.

His touch was like fire, matching me kiss by kiss, his movements uncontrolled and his hands everywhere. All of a sudden I felt like I needed him, I couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss hard enough – I was melting against him. The masculine scent of his cologne mingled with my floral aroma as he pressed his hips against my lower abdomen.

Nothing mattered… except him.

***END OF FLASHBACK***

I ignored his comment and carried on walking until a hand clamped down on my shoulder. Damien. I involuntarily shivered at his familiar touch, from pleasure or disgust, I didn't know.

I whipped around, jerking my shoulder out of his grasp. "Don't you touch me, you bastard," I warned quietly, preceding to walk to the door, my heels clinking on the marble floor.

His hand caught my wrist, spinning me to face him. A mixture of annoyance and mild confusion was evident on his face, being the first type of emotion I had ever seen from him, aside from amusement. "What's your problem?"

I laughed mockingly, folding my arms across my chest. "What's _my_ problem?" I inched closer to him, "My problem is you, Damien."

"Gosh, Jenny-" he began, massaging his temples.

I interrupted his sentence rudely. "Listen up. I'm in this class because I was forced to. I would quit it now, but unfortunately, there's no other option. I came to Hudson to escape and leave the Upper East Side behind me, and now that you're here, I can't even do that. You're a liar, a cheater and an insufferable jerk. I loathe you, Damien Dalgaard."

His eyes darkened. "And you're a prissy little virgin, Humphrey. Don't flatter yourself, I have no interest in you whatsoever. Like I said – you're still a kid. I get that you're still bitter about how things ended, but you need to keep that and whatever happened between us" – he gestured to both of us – "to yourself. Keep your mouth firmly shut, and control yourself. Got that, princess?"

I scowled at his comment, but felt a pang of sharp pain deep inside my chest. I brushed it aside quickly, silently daring myself to cry. Without uttering another word, I spun on my heel and stalked out of the auditorium, furiously thumbing away the slow trail of water on my cheek that had only then started to fall.


	5. Chapter 4

I wasn't having the best of days, to say the least. Not knowing why, I just didn't have the patience or was not in the mood to do anything today, least of all History. I had been cranky since the moment I woke up, to the utmost dismay of my painfully perky mom, who had told me just about fifty times to cheer up that morning, to the moment I arrived at school. After yelling at her to leave me the hell alone and slamming the door shut on my exit, I stalked to school, sending venomous glances to whoever looked my way. The day felt unbearably dreary, completely pointless and I couldn't wait to return to a quieter environment.

At ten o'clock that morning, I sat – bored out of my mind - in History class, trying hard to concentrate. Giving up after 20 minutes of the teacher's endless droning, I propped my head up on my elbows, not noticing when it slipped and my head gently landed on the desk with an inaudible thud. Eyes heavy and breathing slow, somehow the day's lesson was pushing me further and further into sleep, and even the occasional debates of the students were not enough to keep me up throughout the entire period.

"Miss Humphrey," Ms Meyers said sharply, after briskly rapping on my desk to wake me. With a jolt, I lifted my head up from the hard, wooden surface to find every head in the classroom turned towards me – I flinched under their fixed gazes. "What do you have to say about the Russian Revolution?"

She did it this to all the sleeping kids who sat at the back, it was her way of testing our concentration. Come to think of it, the teachers at Constance sometimes did the same. Was this some kind of method the teachers all agreed on?

I immediately panicked. "Ummm... I don't think it's fair that Hitler broke the deal," I pulled myself together and said whatever popped into my mind when I heard the words 'Russian Revolution'.

"What deal would that be?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. I took that as I sign I was on the right tracks and continued, more confidently.

"They signed that treaty, right? And then Germany attacked anyway. So what was the point of the treaty if Hitler couldn't be loyal?"

All eyes were still frozen on me and Ms Meyers seemed impressed. I felt good at her expression and sat up straighter. However, the feeling didn't last, because apparently they were talking about something else.

"You've done your studying, I see. Good, Jenny, but you're off the topic. I recommend eight hours of sleep though. Okay?"

"Yes. Sorry, Ms Meyers," I replied, nodding my head in agreement.

As if on cue, the bell rang soundly, clear as day throughout the whole school. Students immediately rose from their seats with a clatter and exited the room before the teacher could say a word of dismissal. Sighing in relief at the completion of another lesson, I hastily stuffed my books into my bag, and slung it over my shoulder. Highly agitated and on the verge of crying out in annoyance, I helplessly watched as my heavy volumes tore through the bottom of my bag and scattered all across the marble floor. Momentarily closing my eyes to regain my strength, I crouched down to gather the weighty volumes into my arms and stumbled like an injured deer to my locker, buckling under the weight. I would be a bit late to my next class, but I couldn't possibly carry these with me the whole time.

The periods after History continued to stretch on, each lesson seemingly longer than the last, but finally I found myself sitting at lunch, ungracefully slurping down the last straw of spaghetti on my plate. I knew I looked - unladylike to say the least - devouring that spaghetti like an animal, but, at that point, I was too famished to care.

Just as my eyes fluttered open, I saw none other than Damien Dalgaard, staring at me with playful amusement glinting in his grey eyes. Trust him to witness me at my worst moment. I knew I was having a bad day, but this was just the flipping icing on the cake! I mentally pictured myself through his view - little Jenny Humphrey, lips pouted from the last spaghetti noodle, possibly with a spot of ketchup on my mouth – childish and immature.

He smiled and vaguely gestured to his lips, confirming that I did, indeed, have ketchup on my face. Embarrassed, I frustratedly scrambled for a napkin but, knowing my luck today, there were none. With a scrap of my left dignity, I got to my feet and quickly obtained a napkin from the stand, and wiped the ketchup off.

How the hell can he do it? How can he just be polite and pretend that everything between us is okay, when it's not and it probably never will be?It's not fair that he gets to forget our twisted history. Why was he acting like nothing ever happened between us, like I'm just another one of his students? Like I meant nothing to him.

At first I loved dealing, the vibe, the energy that pulsated through my veins like electricity. I relished everything about it. Deep down, I knew Damien was using me, and for some reason I was totally okay with that. Slowly, bit by bit, the 'buzz' wore off, until I hated doing it, but I still didn't stop, I said nothing. Why? Because of Damien Dalgaard – the heartbreakingly handsome Belgium attaché. He was a liar. He was a cheater. He was a freaking drug dealer! He was so charming it could come off as repulsive. But I didn't care, I was too blinded by young infatuation.

I'd grown close to that manipulative and sly bastard, became fond of him, I thought that he actually cared about me. I went behind my family's backs, and continued to date him, lying and cheating without a second thought. I fought with Chuck, lied to Nate and Serena, ditched school and snuck out despite my dad's warnings, to be with him. Running away from everyone at the party with him had been exhilarating and exciting beyond belief, and we laughed about it. That's why I had been so crazy about him, he was fun and being with him was thrilling – he got my adrenaline pumping and my heart rushing.

And when he wanted to have sex, I thought I was ready too. I continued to explicitly ignore warnings from everyone, I thought he genuinely cared for me, that he was different. Thinking that I liked him enough to give myself to him, I tried to, but when I realised I couldn't do it, he just left me in that hotel room.

"I knew you were just a kid."

Those seven words killed me inside. I gave up everything – my family's respect, my honour and integrity and was even prepared to give up my innocence to him – and it still wasn't good enough. I tried so hard to prove myself to him, to show him that I wasn't just some schoolgirl and that I was worthy of his attention.

The feeling when he slammed the door behind him was crushing, and I couldn't believe that after everything, he would leave me all alone. All I wanted to do was lock myself up in my bedroom and not come out. Ever.

I couldn't shake that angry and upset feeling off for months. Mostly angry at Damien, a part of me blamed myself – if I handled things differently, would I be in this situation? Insecurity clawed at me and I started to criticize myself – was I not pretty enough, witty enough, or popular enough and wonder what was wrong with me. Who knew, that one guy, could lower Queen J's self-esteem so much and make me think I was nothing special – just an ordinary girl.

Seeing him on the first day of school broke me, the nonchalance he displayed disgusted me, and it brought back all those angry feelings I had towards him, I hated him. I hated every fibre of Damien Dalgaard's being.

I was so intoxicated and wrapped up in my blissfully unaware happiness, thinking he was a great guy... but obviously, I was wrong. Seemed like I was wrong about a lot things at the time. I believed I could simply be happy, with nothing going wrong. I learned a hard lesson: happiness came at a very expensive price. A price, I, Jenny Humphrey, had no hope of ever being able to pay.

I averted my eyes from Damien's and started to fiddle with my plastic box and spoon, still sensing his impenetrable gaze. Before I could glance up again, I heard a distant, but familiar, voice ring from behind me.

"Hey, Humphrey," Gretchen yelled, looking slightly out of balance. It was when she was almost near me, that she completely tipped over. You know that moment where suddenly everything is in slow motion? It felt like one of those moments, my thoughts instantly left my head. Gretchen lost her balance and Chris ran to her rescue. He caught her just in time before a painful fall.

"Are you okay, Gretchen?" Damien and his mercurial orbs completely forgotten, I dashed over to her.

"Yeah, I'm totally okay" she replied gratefully, readjusting her bag over her shoulder and straightening her tie.

"So, has Jenny-" Jared's voice came from behind her. He interrupted his own sentence when he noticed the worried expressions of the trio. "What happened?"

"Let's just say Gretchen here, almost high fived the floor with her face," Chris said, chuckling and shaking his head at his own joke.

The slightly annoyed brunette whipped around to face him."Yeah, and maybe I should consider fist bumping your face," Gretchen retorted with narrowed eyes, watching with contentment as Chris stepped back cautiously, holding up his hands in mock surrender. She turned to me, and spoke with a much gentler tone. "Are you okay, Jenny?"

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" I asked, bewildered at her question.

"You've been pissed off all day, at everyone, dozed off in class and you were just ruthlessly stabbing that empty box with your plastic fork for the past 2 minutes."

"I'm just having a bad day," I said quickly, enough to avoid being plagued by a game of 20 Questions about Jenny Humphrey.

I plugged my earphones in and Great Northern sang their way into my relaxation.

*thanks to niamalfoyxxx for being my beta,, I totally appreciate it!


End file.
